


White Lies and Emotional Ties

by Will_Write_4_Coffee



Category: The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: But only a little, Couch Sex, Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Hotel Sex, Human Trafficking, I'm sure there are 800 other tags I could use for this, Karen gets a lead and just cannot let it go, Max the pit bull is 4 months old now, Mentions of Violence, Oral Sex, PWP, Porn With Plot, Shower Sex, at the end, but not EXACTLY how you're thinking, but not nearly as obvious as Frank, but nothing graphic is really mentioned, emotions are involved, in which Karen is trying to get information for a story and ends up with Frank in a mob run hotel, jealous Karen, jealous frank, kastle - Freeform, mentions of David Lieberman, mentions of drug use, my how time flies, possessive Frank, possessive Karen, stuff happens strippers are involved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 16:29:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13662858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Will_Write_4_Coffee/pseuds/Will_Write_4_Coffee
Summary: Karen gets a lead about the Russian mob running hotels as fronts for human trafficking/ sex workers and decides the best way to get her story is to stay at one of those hotels and interview employees. If only Frank hadn't shown up and seen her suitcase...It starts with a white lie, and becomes so much more.Don't be fooled folks, this is still PWP.(Could be read as a continuation of Breaking Free or a stand-alone)





	White Lies and Emotional Ties

It started with a white lie.

“You goin’ on vacation?” Frank had asked, catching her leaving her apartment with a suitcase and her messenger bag for work.

In hindsight, Karen realized she could have just said the truth. But what came out was…

“My apartment is being fumigated.”

Frank’s brows had drawn down over his dark eyes as he grunted.

Karen continued. “I’m staying in a hotel… It’s actually a pretty nice suite…” She’d felt her cheeks tint at her poorly veiled invitation.

Frank hadn’t said anything. Simply reached down and took the handle of her bag and hoisted it up.

When Karen blinked at him, he’d jerked his head towards the stairs. “Lead the way.”

It was going to be an interesting weekend…

***

Karen unzipped her suitcase to retrieve the small toiletries case and set it on the counter. The brightly lit hotel bathroom was huge compared to her apartment’s shower-stall-in-a-closet feel.

“Nice room,” Frank called. She could hear him pacing around the large suite, inspecting the windows, the cabinets, the nightstands… always vigilant.

“I used some of my reward points and got an upgrade.” At least that wasn’t a lie. She hadn’t told him why she picked a hotel all the way in Brighton Beach though…

“Got a nice view too,” Frank’s voice echoed off the glass she knew he was standing next to.

She unpacked her tooth brush, her face wash, everything she’d need for the evening.

“I like the ocean,” she admitted, digging around her toiletries case for the zip lock bag of cotton swabs and Q-tips she packed. “I keep telling myself I’ll go to the beach more often, but stuff always gets in the way…”

“You mean work gets in the way.”

She smirked to herself in the mirror. “Yeah.”

Listening to Frank pace again, she put her shampoo and conditioner in the shower and checked the towels. “So are you hungry? We could order room service.”

“Sure.”

Karen stepped out of the bathroom to see him pulling his coat off and hanging it on the back of the desk chair. The suite had nearly everything a person could need for a long weekend—besides the king sized bed, there was a nicely sized desk and chair with reading lamps, a loveseat, coffee table, kitchenette with a small fridge and coffee maker, as well as a minibar. The bathroom had a tile shower stall as well as a large tub and bathrobes hanging next to the towels. Karen was almost uncomfortable with the amount of luxury surrounding them.

“You sure know how to pick a hotel,” Frank commented, sitting at the foot of the bed.

 _You have no idea,_ Karen thought. Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she went over to where the room service menus and phone were arranged, and started flipping through the options.

They ordered 2 burgers, extra fries, and a bottle of wine.

Frank was finishing his fries when he said it.

“Your apartment isn’t being fumigated…” He looked up at her, still chewing his last bite. “Is it?”

Karen froze, wine glass halfway to her lips. “Um, what do you…?”

“C’mon, don’t do that.” He wiped his hands on his napkin. “If your apartment was actually being fumigated, you’d have told me. You’d have told me cuz you’d’ve been so goddamn mad about it, you’d need to vent. I’d have gotten an earful about your shitty landlord or the roach problem in your building or whatever. It would’ve come up. But it didn’t. So…” He popped another fry into his mouth. “Why are we really here?”

Karen set her wine down, finger tracing the stem as she thought. “I… have a lead on a story.”

Frank’s shoulders rolled as he sat up straighter.

She continued. “5 star hotels being used as fronts by the Russian mob for trafficking sex workers into the city.”

Frank’s stare went murderous for a millisecond, The Punisher rushing to the surface before he stamped that side of himself back down.

Karen sighed. “I didn’t tell you at first because… I didn’t want you to _take care of it._ ” Her gaze shifted, feeling ashamed of how she was talking to him, about him.

“Take care of it,” he repeated, voice darker.

Licking her lips, Karen exhaled roughly through her nose. “You and I both know you’re not exactly impartial when it comes to gangs and violence against women.”

“Should I be?” Derision curled around his words.

“No, no, of course not, it’s just…” Karen steadied herself, weighing her options. “Alright. You want the truth?”

Frank simply stared at her.

“I wanted the story.” She said it with conviction. “I wanted to drag these bastards out into the light of day, expose them for what they’re doing. And I wanted it without the body count at the end.”

After a beat, Frank nodded minutely, gaze dropping to the table between them.

“I knew if I told you before… I’d be writing about a bunch of suspected Russian mobsters found dead in a warehouse somewhere.”

Karen tapped her nail against her wine glass in building frustration. She waited for him to respond, but there was only silence.

Just as she was about to comment, Frank chuckled so deep in his throat it sounded more like a grunt.

“You didn’t want me stealin’ your thunder,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“I…” Karen faltered. “If you want to put it that way…” Her cheeks heated at the accusation.

Rubbing his hands on his knees, Frank shrugged. “I get it. You want justice, not literal dead ends.”

“Don’t think a pun is going to get me to laugh right now.”

“Not tryin’ to.”

“Good.”

“Karen…” He sighed, tilting his head as he thought. “Alright, yeah. Maybe… Maybe I’d’ve… gone after these guys, yeah? Maybe. But now, we’re here. In a swanky ass hotel run by the Russian mob. I don’t have my gear, I don’t have jack shit.” He locked eyes with her. “But you do. You’ve got intel. So… So what’re we doin’, huh?”

Something warm started to bloom in Karen’s chest, and she wasn’t at all sure how to handle it in that moment. It would have to wait.

“You… you wanna do this my way?” She asked, eyes wide.

Frank regarded her quietly. “Not like I got much of a choice, but… yeah. Yeah, your way this time.”

Karen’s lips curved, and for a brief moment she thought maybe she’d need a psych eval if she was joyous over her lover saying he wouldn’t kill people right away _, for her_.

“So… What’ve you got?”

Standing up, Karen went to her bag and dug out the files she’d brought with her while Frank cleared the plates and made room on the coffee table.

“I got a tip that there are a few women in house keeping here who know something,” Karen started, laying out papers for Frank to read over. “If we can get to them, get them to talk…”

“They know where these people are being brought in?”

“Possibly. Or they’ve overheard conversations… Maybe if they don’t know, they’ll know someone who does.”

Frank started reading the files Karen had, finger running along details he felt important. It was one of his tells… She knew it was to help him memorize something.

“So how are we supposed to get a group of scared, immigrant strangers to trust us with information that could get them killed?”

Karen bit her lip. “You’re not gonna like it…”

“I already don’t like a lotta things…”

“It’s a two-part plan…” She started, shuffling some papers until she found the list of employees she needed. “First, I’m—We’re—going to track down these 3 women and talk to them. I know for a fact one of them is willing to give up information because she’s worked with the ADA on another case before.”

“She has?”

“Her name came up on an affidavit from a few years back—”

“Jesus, Karen, how much research did you do for this?”

She glanced up at him and smiled. “Same amount I do for all my stories.”

Frank’s nod was both approving and impressed and Karen beamed.

“Once I get the whereabouts of the guys running things from inside this specific hotel, I’ll switch to the second part of the plan.”

“Which is…?”

Karen dropped her gaze for a moment. “Playing the alluring listening ear for some unsuspecting Russians in the lounge downstairs.”

“What?” Frank bit out. “No. No way.”

“Frank—”

“You’re gonna try to play spider and fly with a whole room of dangerous gangsters?” His trigger finger twitched. “No. That’s not… No, Karen, I can’t—”

“You said you’d do this my way,” she cut him off.

“Yeah, when your way was implied to be hanging out in hotel laundry rooms talking to a few women about shit they wanna discuss anyway. Not you gettin’ dolled up for some mob boss.”

Her head jerked back in surprise. “Dolled up? Frank… First of all, the guys running this place are goons—”

“Cuz that’s so much better.”

“None of the higher ups are here, it’s too risky. These guys are lackeys, they just have info we need.”

“And you’re gonna get it from them by—”

“Stop it, I’m not going to do anything. I’m just gonna keep them talking.”

Frank’s nostrils flared. “These men are dangerous, Karen. They might not be top dog, but they’re still not anyone you wanna cross.”

“Then I guess it’s lucky for me you showed up at my place tonight, huh?”

Frank crossed his arms and leaned back, staring at her.

“You’re right. I don’t like this.”

Karen was about to respond when Frank pulled his phone out of his pocket and dialed, pressing the phone to his ear.

“What are you--?”

“It’s me,” he said to whoever picked up. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Look, you know that thing I told you you’d probably never have to do, but just in case…”

Karen frowned as she listened.

“Yeah. Key’s under the loose floorboard by the front door. Uh, sure, that’s fine, just don’t touch the—Right, okay. Yeah, his treats are in a bag on the counter, he get’s one after his walk. Don’t let him scam you into giving him more, no matter how pitiful he looks.”

Karen’s hand went to her mouth, covering her grin.

“His food is in the pantry, and…” Frank glanced up at Karen before ducking his head and saying, “He likes to sleep with his fuzzy sheep in his bed, so be sure to leave it with him.”

She was certain her heart swelled three sizes just listening to Frank giving instructions on how to care for his 4 month old pit bull, Max.

“Thanks David. Tell Leo hi for me.” He hung up and looked to Karen. “Go ahead.”

Karen’s ‘awww’ echoed off the hotel room walls and she didn’t even care.

***

Everything had been going according to plan. Everything. Karen had been shocked at how smoothly things had been going.

They’d mapped out the hotel, quickly figured out the staff’s schedules, and had managed to talk to 2 of the 3 women they needed before lunchtime the next day. Frank had made an excellent watch dog—keeping the perimeter secure while Karen quickly interviewed the women, getting everything recorded and taking notes. Frank even helped translate a few times, explaining he’d been stationed with a few Russian-Americans who spoke Russian interchangeably back when he served.

Karen had even successfully begun the transition to part 2 of the plan, making it down to the lounge to scope it out and clock the few goons she knew would be there, drinking and playing cards at a corner booth. She’d even managed to talk to one of them, chatted him up like a pro while Frank hid in the shadowy service hall, watching her every move.

Then the goon—Boris, because of course his name was Boris—spotted Karen’s open purse, and her press badge she’d forgotten to leave in her room. He grabbed her wrist, started cursing at her in Russian, asking who she worked for, and Karen made a grab for her gun when—

Frank was there, hands on Karen, yanking her back. But his words…

“Honey? Honey, please, I’m begging you, come home,” he practically wailed, gripping Karen’s arms tight and pulling her away from Boris.

Boris, confused and still angry, started yelling at Frank in a mix of English and Russian.

“Who are you? What are you doing?” He asked, accent thicker from rage.

“Baby, please, I promise I’ll be better,” Frank continued, hauling Karen closer. “I promise I’ll take the kids to soccer practice, I’ll let you go to your book club…”

It was the most elaborate rouse Karen had ever seen Frank pull off effectively. Her shock even played into the whole scene perfectly, thank god.

“You don’t have to do this, come home sweetie,” Frank told her, grabbing her purse off the bar as he spoke. “Please, I know I haven’t been great, and I know you’re not happy, but baby please, don’t leave me, don’t leave me for this guy.”

Boris chuckled and looked over at his friends. Karen didn’t need to speak Russian to know he was mocking the man Frank was pretending to be.

Karen caught up just in time. “Oh my god, you’re so embarrassing,” she hissed, taking Frank by the wrist. “I cannot believe you followed me.”

“You said you were going to be at your mom’s but I knew—” Frank was tugging Karen further away from Boris, kicking a barstool out of their way.

“You never trust me!” Karen countered, eyeing their exits while Frank made a scene.

Frank’s head tilted to the left, cueing her to go for the main door leading to the hallway. “Please, just talk to me, okay? Please?”

Karen made a dash for the door, dragging Frank with her. “Not in here, you’re too loud. Come on!”

They practically ran out, around the corner and down the hall, and into the elevator. No one followed, no one even stuck their head out to spy on the fighting couple.

Frank waited until they were a floor up before speaking in his normal tone.

“What the fuck was that?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing,” Karen said, jerking her chin at him.

Frank shook his head. “He saw something in your bag—”

“My press badge. I forgot to leave it in the room.”

Frank scrubbed his hand over his face. “Karen…”

“Well at least _someone_ was there to swoop in with a distraction. Nice groveling soccer dad impression, by the way.”

“This isn’t funny, Karen,” he snapped. “He could have hurt you.”

The elevator dinged, alerting them that they only had 4 more floors to go.

“He wasn’t going to open fire on me in a crowded lounge, Frank.”

“You’ve spent the last day talking to witnesses who know what these guys do to women who test them,” he said, voice low and lethal. “What makes you think he wouldn’t’ve dragged you out back and—” He cut himself off, visibly shaking.

Remorse flooded her system, souring Karen’s stomach. “Frank… Hey, Frank… Look at me. I’m okay.” She reached for him, hand on his bicep. “See? Didn’t even leave a mark.” She showed him her wrists as proof.

Frank was silent, dark eyes boring holes in her. He blinked and looked away, refusing to answer. When they reached their floor, Frank lead the way out, holding her hand tightly as they walked.

No, not walked. Marched.

Karen’s stomach trembled as Frank unlocked their room and practically hauled her inside.

“Frank, come on, I’m okay. I might have flubbed getting the rest of the information I needed, but I have enough to dig further and write the story.”

“That all you care about? Your goddamn story?”

“I’m not having this argument with you,” she snapped. “You said we could do this my way, you said—”

“I know what I said, alright? Jesus Christ…” He yanked his hat off, tossing it onto the coffee table.

Karen exhaled roughly, dropping her purse in the chair and kicking off her heels. Turning towards the bathroom, she said, “I’m taking a shower.”

“You have any idea what it was like to watch him grab you?”

Frank’s voice cracked, broke in such a way that it brought Karen to a sudden halt.

“Hell, even before he touched you. To—to watch him be near you, lookin’ at you like… Like…”

“Like what, Frank?” She whispered.

Dark eyes found hers. “Like you were his for the taking.”

His trigger finger never stopped twitching.

Heat coursed through her, and Karen didn’t know if it was anger, remorse, or something else entirely. She watched him for a moment, hyper-aware of the unfamiliar territory they were both in.

She’d never seen Frank… jealous, for lack of a better word. He’d never had a reason to be, and Karen hadn’t exactly been around many other guys with Frank there too.

But it wasn’t just jealousy fueling his anger, it was panic. Frank had panicked.

But he didn’t need to be panicked anymore…

Karen pulled her hair clip out of her hair, letting her blonde waves fall down her shoulders.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” she told him, voice soothing this time. “And I’d really like some company…”

He mumbled under his breath before saying, “Karen?”

“Come on…” she offered her hand, hoping he’d follow. “This shower stall is big enough for 2.” She smiled, hoping it seemed more seductive than concerned.

She was turning the water on to warm up when he came up behind her, hands roaming her back and shoulders. He was silent and insistent as he unzipped her dress for her.

Karen straightened, working the straps down her arms to let the dress fall to the floor. His lips trailed over the curve of her neck, breath hot against her.

“Y’looked good in that,” he murmured into her shoulder, hands gripping her waist. “A little too good…”

Karen smiled softly. “Got your attention, huh?”

“Got the attention of every straight man with a pulse.”

She could feel the tension ebb from him, but the possessiveness lingered. It curled and weaved around him, tightening his hold on her, pressing his lips to her skin more firmly, keeping him crowded into her space.

She knew it shouldn’t—Karen wasn’t a fan of jealous men—but it made a red-hot thrill run through her. She felt herself arching into it like a pleased house cat.

Keeping her back to him, she unhooked the front clasp of her bra and dropped it to the floor. Frank’s hands skimmed up her sides, not yet touching where they both wanted. Bending slightly at the waist, Karen shimmied out of her panties and left them where they fell.

“Gonna have to take off some of those clothes if you’re joining me,” she said, glancing over her shoulder before stepping into the shower, ducking under the spray.

Frank’s gaze tracked her. “Always tryin’ to get me naked…”

Karen laughed softly, wetting her hair. “Can’t blame me for wanting to see what you’re always hiding under 3 layers of jackets.”

She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her, and listened to the symphony of zippers, buttons, a belt buckle, all announcing the shedding of clothing. The shower door slid shut, and she felt Frank before she saw him.

“Not like you,” he said, palms running up the curve of her hips. “Didn’t hide a damn thing in that dress.”

She grinned, blinking away water droplets. “Maybe I did it on purpose…”

“I know you did it on purpose,” he said, voice dark and gravely.

Karen’s knuckles bumped the ridges of his abdomen as she reached for him. “As I recall, strangers in the lounge weren’t the only ones watching me…” She murmured, hand over the scar on his chest. “Maybe I was shamelessly pandering to my audience.”

He regarded her a moment, dark eyes nearly black. “You… You wore it for me?”

“Had to be sure I kept your attention somehow,” she teased, fingers toying with his damp hair.

Frank’s lips twitched, not quite a smile but something close. “Minx.”

Karen was about to respond when she suddenly wasn’t standing on tile anymore. Her feet came off the floor, her shoulder blades smacking against the wall, and Frank was hoisting her legs up and around his waist, holding her so tightly she’d bruise. He grunted at the same time she gasped, voices echoing in the shower stall.

Her wet hair clung to her neck and Frank shoved his face into it, breathing her in.

“Drive me crazy, you know that?” He muttered against her skin. “Always gotta look so fuckin’ good… Gotta find trouble wherever you are… Swear to god, one of these days, you’re gonna give me a stroke…”

His hard length pressed against her thigh and Karen hummed, unable to even argue.

“Wanted to deck that guy,” Frank grunted in her ear, rutting against her core but not entering her yet. It was the sweetest torture.

“Frank…” She breathed, clinging to his wet shoulders.

“Lookin’ at you like that, like he was 2 seconds away from bending you over…” His voice was too warm to be lethal, too sharp to be docile. Jealous Frank didn’t sound like the Punisher… But he didn’t sound like the Frank she knew either. This was a different beast entirely.

One Karen still wanted.

She tightened her legs around his waist, gripping the back of his neck. “I’m yours though.” She said it quickly, a little sloppily against his cheek.

Lining up, Frank thrust inside with one stroke, making her cry out.

“Damn right you are,” he growled. Withdrawing, almost completely, he snapped his hips again and Karen gasped. “And you like that, huh? You like being mine.”

Karen nodded, leaning back against the tile wall. “Yeah, fuck…”

Frank’s teeth closed on the sensitive skin at her collar bone. “You like knowin’ I’m watchin’ you, knowin’ I’m right there.”

“Uh huh,” she moaned, trying to swivel her hips for more friction, but Frank had her solidly pinned.

“…Knowin’ I’d fuck up anybody who touched you…”

Her breath caught in her throat as she scrambled for purchase on his shoulders, his back. The warm water beat down on them as he adjusted his hold, changing the angle so he could go faster, harder.

“Ah, Frank,” she cried when he found just the right spot. “More, please God, more.”

“Shh, gonna get us in trouble,” he told her, nipping her ear. “Last thing I need is some snot-nosed manager interrupting this.” He punctuated that statement with a particularly sharp thrust that nearly had Karen careening over the edge.

“Jesus Christ,” she gasped, barely able to hold on as he fucked her.

Frank sucked a mark into the other side of her neck, teeth worrying the spot until her skin burned. “Whole fuckin’ place is gonna know you’re mine,” he growled, and Karen shivered despite the humid air around them.

Karen arched her back, grabbing a handful of his hair and tugging like she knew he enjoyed. The rumble it drew out of him reverberated in her own ribs, and Frank picked up the pace. She’d never felt so full, so ravaged, and she’d never wanted something more in her life than to feel completely taken by Frank—her Frank.

“Harder,” she groaned, pressing her lips to his temple. “Please, Frank, fuck me harder.”

His teeth found a new place to nip, just above her left breast. “Don’t… wanna hurt… you…” He panted as his hips pistoned against her.

“You won’t, you won’t,” she breathed, shaking her head. “Harder, God, Frank, harder.”

Wrapping his arms under her thighs, he lifted, her skin squeaking against tile. Karen started to scream as he fucked her like she begged him to, but muffled the sound with his shoulder.

“Shit, Karen… takin’ it so good,” he grunted, kissing her throat.

It started as a slow tremble in her lower belly that quickly erupted into full shaking and heat that engulfed her. Karen was convinced she was shattering apart, like glass in a fire.

“That’s it, sweetheart, come,” Frank told her, graveled voice in her ear. He sounded as wrecked as she felt. “Come. Now.”

Karen’s nails bit into the meat of his back, tremors rolling through her as the first wave of her orgasm crashed down. The air was stolen from her lungs, the only noise escaping her was a soft gasp as she tried to inhale. Her mouth hung open in a nearly silent scream, her eyes squeezed shut, and Frank was relentless. Her climax had barely dipped when he set to work giving her another.

“Shit, Frank,” she groaned, scratching his back and shoulders.

“Not finished with you yet,” he growled into her sternum, licking a stripe up to her throat.

He’d just palmed her right breast, pinching her nipple firmly, when she started to clench. Her second orgasm hit her so quickly it left her stunned and shaking.

Frank was still sucking a new mark into her shoulder, muttering under his breath. “… So tight, fuck… Feel every inch of you…”

Two more thrusts and Frank was falling over the edge, cursing as his hips stuttered. She heard him whisper her name, barely audible over the shower spray.

But what made her heart skip was the mumbled, “Mine… You’re mine…” He pressed into her skin with shockingly tender kisses.

After simply holding each other for a long while, Frank eased her down, making sure she was steady on her feet before letting go. Cupping her cheek, he ducked his head and kissed her—the first time since they’d made it back to the hotel room.

Karen smiled against his lips, running her hands over his arms. Neither of them spoke as they started the lather and rinse routine. Frank silently took the shampoo bottle from her, squeezing some into his palm and working it into her hair for her. It was soft, tender—a fresh juxtaposition from how he’d been moments earlier.

Taking the bar of soap out of the dish, Karen ran it over Frank’s chest and neck, bubbles dripping down his sides. They smiled at each other, and if Karen didn’t know any better, she’d have said the color tinting Frank’s ears was from blushing.

He was gentle with her as he continued to help her soap up, hand dipping between her legs but with a feather-light touch before moving up and over her stomach and breasts.

Frank even kissed each mark he’d left on her as Karen rinsed under the shower spray.

When they were done, Karen turned off the water as Frank got out and fetched them both towels. He wrapped his around his waist, knotting it securely, and handed hers over, gaze dropping for one last look before she covered herself in terrycloth.

Karen arched and eyebrow at him and Frank smirked, shrugging in a silent ‘can you blame me?’

She was sore, and the insides of her thighs ached, and Karen wouldn’t have it any other way.

Frank ordered them dinner while Karen massaged lotion into her arms and legs, cursing the dry air for wreaking havoc on her skin.

They ate in bed, curled up next to each other, watching a Meryl Streep movie on cable. Karen had changed into one of the hotel robes, while Frank had kept his towel on, even while they ate. With about 30 minutes left of the movie, Karen nodded off, head on Frank’s shoulder, and when she awoke she had a blanket tucked around her and the tv was showing a nature documentary.

“Missed the end of the movie,” he murmured, glancing down at her with a soft smile.

“I’ll catch it again,” she said, stretching and repositioning to sit up straighter.

Frank turned the volume down and looked at her. “I, uh… I hope…” He cleared his throat. “I don’t want you to think I’m… _That_ guy…”

“What do you mean?”

“The guy who loses his shit when his girl is in the same room as another man. That ain’t me.”

“I know it isn’t.”

Frank’s jaw worked. “I just… I…”

“It’s okay, Frank,” she told him, hand resting on his chest. “I know you’re not some pigheaded frat boy.”

“Yeah, yeah, I just… I don’t want you thinkin’ I don’t trust you.” He held her gaze. “I do. With everything. Today, that was just…”

“You being human,” she finished for him, smiling.

Frank grunted quietly. “That what that was?”

“Mhm hm. And honestly? It was… refreshing.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirked.

She felt herself blush. “I… I actually liked it.”

His stare darkened, but not with anything menacing. More like desire mixed with something even more primal.

“Oh yeah?” He repeated, voice a low rumble.

Karen nodded. “Not that I need it like that all the time… But… yeah. That was…” Her face heated. “It was pretty fucking great.”

Frank cupped her jaw, angling her so he could kiss her fully. “I’ll remember that,” he said against the corner of her mouth.

“You know what I’m remembering?” She asked, glancing up.

“Hmm?”

Her hand trailed down his chest to his abdomen. “What you’ve got under that towel.”

Frank laughed, and Karen grinned, relishing the sound.

“You’re insatiable,” he told her, fingers tangling in her damp hair.

“There are worse things to be,” she said, draping one leg over his and pressing into him.

His hand snaked beneath her robe, cupping her breast while he kissed her. Moaning, Karen arched into his touch.

She’d straddled him, and had just gotten a good rhythm going grinding against his thigh, when there was a knock at the door.

Dazed with lust, Karen hadn’t registered the noise right away—not until Frank was grabbing her hips to still her, grunting unhappily.

Another knock, more urgent than the first, had them both off the bed in an instant.

Karen rewrapped her robe while Frank went for her purse, pulling her handgun out and checking the safety. She looked to him, nodding silently before looking through the peephole.

“Oh my god,” she whispered before opening the door. “Katarina?”

One of the maids they’d spoken to earlier in the day was in the hall, frightened, with her mascara smudged around her eyes like she’d been crying.

“Are you okay?” Karen asked, ushering the other woman into the room quickly before anyone saw.

Karen heard Frank relock the safety on the gun and slide it onto the nightstand out of Katarina’s view.

“Yes,” the woman sniffed. “I… I’m sorry to bother you.” Her English was thickly accented, and Karen knew she hadn’t been in the country long.

“Here, sit down,” Karen said, leading her to a chair. “Are you sure everything is alright?”

Katarina sat, but was quiet as she eyed Frank in a towel with a mix of embarrassment and trepidation. Her gaze stopped at the obvious bullet wound scar on his chest. Clearing his throat, Frank ducked his head.

“I’ll, uh, just put some clothes on. Gimme a sec.”

Karen had just managed to get Katarina a glass of water and a box of tissues when Frank emerged from the bathroom in jeans and his zip up hoodie.

“I’m sorry for… I just didn’t know who to turn to…” Katarina murmured, taking a sip of water. “The women I tell you about earlier—”

“The women brought over from Russia,” Karen clarified.

“Da. I hear the men downstairs say they start making the girls work tonight.”

Karen folded her hands together, leaning on her knees. “Which means they have the girls here, in the hotel already.”

The story Katarina and the others had told Karen before was tragically common—Girls conned under the pretense of being brought to America to work in laundry mats and cleaning services, only to be forced to work as prostitutes and drug mules to pay off their astronomical debt. And the longer they owed the money, the more interest would be charged, imprisoning them for years, sometimes for life, until they found a way to pay it off or, more often, they died.

“Usually Boris and his men, they make the girls wait a few days, to make sure no police are coming,” Katarina started. “But he say… there is, uh…” Her hand gestured as she struggled to find the word in English. Eventually she muttered a string of Russian and Frank nodded.

“She said Boris got an order from his boss to get the girls working ASAP. Something about needing an immediate influx of cash,” Frank paraphrased in his translation, watching Katarina.

The woman nodded, and Karen glanced between them.

“Did he say where? Do you know where they’re taking the girls?”

“A club… Uh… They call it the Fox… house?” Katarina struggled.

“You mean The Fox Den?” Frank asked. Looking at Karen, he said, “It’s a strip club a few blocks from here.”

Karen eyed him, wanting to ask, but she didn’t say anything. Frank caught her expression though, and flashed a quick smirk.

“ _Took care_ of a couple guys comin’ outta there a few months ago,” he whispered to her.

“Ah,” Karen said, nodding.

Katarina finished her water and set the glass down. “The reason I tell you now is… My sister. They have her. I come over a few months ago, Boris say…” She scowled at her hands. “He tells me I owe ten thousand more than originally said. Then he tells me if I don’t pay in two weeks, then my debt will be my sister’s. That kind of money… There’s no way.” She shook her head. “I can barely pay what we agree on before. Now he wants more, plus my sister’s money too? I can’t—”

Karen reached over, taking Katarina’s hand. “Shh, it’s alright.”

“They will kill me. They will kill my sister, and everyone else.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Karen saw Frank’s trigger finger twitch again and again.

“I promise you,” Karen started. “We won’t let anything happen to you or your sister.”

Telling Katarina to wait, Karen ushered Frank into the bathroom to talk.

“Sure you don’t wanna do this my way after all?” Frank whispered. “Looks like we have a ticking clock on our hands.”

Karen shook her head. “I told you, I want them in cuffs not body bags.”

“I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but…” Frank scratched under his jaw. “Could call the cops.”

“You wanna involve the police?”

“We could call Vice, give an anonymous tip. They’d get a team in to raid the place and shut Boris and his boss down for a while.”

“That would also mean Katarina and her sister would be detained, and then deported back to Russia. That’s after they’d be marked as snitches.” Karen shook her head again. “I won’t sign their death warrants like that.”

Sighing through his nose, Frank said, “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“I dunno, I dunno but…” Folding her arms, Karen paced between the door and shower. “We have to do something.”

Frank watched her a moment before saying, “I have an idea. But… You’re not gonna like it.”

“Tit for tat now, Castle?”

He smirked, tilting his head. “I’m not that petty.”

Karen looked at him, mouth quirking up in a soft smile. “Alright. What’s your plan?”

***

Frank was right. Karen didn’t like this at all.

But mostly she was just irritated she didn’t think of it first.

Standing in line for the club, arm in arm with Frank, almost felt normal, natural… Except for the flashing neon signs and beefy, thick-necked bouncer grinning at her.

“Spicing things up tonight folks?” The guy teased, stamping Karen’s hand.

“Whatever my lady wants, she gets,” Frank told him, winking at Karen.

They’d had to figure out a cover quickly, as Karen fought Frank hard on letting him go in alone. Not that she didn’t trust him, but if Frank was going to walk into a mob run strip joint with only her .380 tucked in his belt, she was going to be there.

So there they were, pretending to be a thrill-seeking married couple out for a night of glorified foreplay. Karen was back in her form-fitting dress and Frank… well Frank was Frank. But he pulled off the all black look very well, and convincingly as her date.

The bouncer ushered them inside and Karen blinked, eyes adjusting to the low lighting everywhere but the stages. Frank had his hand on her low back, guiding her to the bar.

“Alright, we still good?” He asked, flagging the bartender down to order them both a couple of rum and cokes.

“Katarina said her dancer friend’s stage name was Dixie,” Karen said. “We ask for her, eventually get her to take us to the champagne lounge, and then we find the others.”

“Get ‘em out, you call the cops, and Vice busts the place for drug smuggling.”

“And Micro gets them all on the first bus to Ohio.”

Frank clinked her glass with his. “Go team.”

Karen hadn’t been this nervous since asking Paul Cutler to Junior prom, but thankfully it helped sell the “married couple looking for adventure” cover. Finding a spot in one of the booths, a woman quickly approached in a sequin bikini and sky-high stilettos. Karen hurriedly asked for Dixie, while Frank leaned back and sipped his drink.

“You look a little too comfortable here,” she commented when the woman walked away.

“Fake it ‘til you make it, I guess.”

Another dancer appeared at their booth, and Karen nearly choked on her drink when she saw the sparkly red, white, and blue two-piece barely covering her.

“You must be Dixie,” Karen said, smiling. Turning to Frank, she grinned broadly. “Look, she’s wearing your colors, _dear_.”

Frank’s poker face was good but not that good. His eyes widened and if she wasn’t mistaken, Karen thought she saw the tips of his ears darken in the flashing lights.

Dixie didn’t waste any time. After asking a few questions about a couple’s package and if Karen wanted to go first (which she declined), Dixie moved over to Frank, seductively undulating between his knees.

Karen watched, biting the inside of her cheek so as not to laugh. It was harder than it seemed when Frank looked like a deer in headlights.

Two double D headlights, barely covered by a bikini made from a bedazzled American flag.

“You like?” Dixie asked, switching her routine a little.

Frank nodded. “Hm, yeah, uh…”

“Don’t be shy, honey,” Karen teased over the lip of her glass.

But the longer Karen watched Dixie work for her money, the warmer Karen felt… and it wasn’t the rum. Frank was a gentleman, but he still had to sell their cover, which meant he had to at least pretend he was enjoying himself. And Karen wasn’t totally sure what was pretend enjoyment or real, because his eyes were still lingering on Dixie’s assets as she moved and gyrated.

 _This is the point,_ she told herself, sipping her drink. _Besides, he’s not fucking her in front of me. I’m an adult and I can handle this._

But then Dixie turned, grinding her ass against Frank’s crotch, and Karen was surprised she didn’t draw blood from how deep her nails were digging into her palm.

“Your girlfriend looks lonely,” Dixie commented, Russian accent clipping her words.

Frank nodded. “Maybe you should show her some attention, huh?”

Before Karen could even register what they’d said, Dixie was in front of her, body-rolling up the length of her torso.

“Oh, uh,” Karen stuttered, nearly spilling her drink. “Wow, you’re… talented.”

“Thank you.” Dixie smiled and winked.

Karen attempted to look relaxed, leaning back further in her seat.

“It’s okay if you want to touch,” Dixie said as she moved. “I don’t normally offer, but you seem like nice couple.”

Karen’s stare shot to Frank who looked like he was trying not to swallow his tongue.

Seizing the opportunity, Karen glanced up at Dixie. “Actually… I was wondering if you’d be available to take us to the champagne lounge? I might be able to relax a little more if we were somewhere… private.”

Dixie nodded, and looked over to Frank. “It’s a little more expensive…”

Frank shrugged. “Whatever my lady wants.”

With a seductive wink, Dixie took Karen by the hand and lead them both to the back. After a quick conversation with another bouncer, she guided them to a room marked private, and closed the door. Red velvet couches lined the walls, with a stainless steel pole in the middle of the room. All the lightbulbs had been replaced with soft reds and pinks, giving everything an artificially romantic glow.

“We have the room for one hour—” Dixie started, turning around to face them. But she quickly caught how Frank and Karen’s demeanors had changed, and her expression fell. “You’re not cops, are you?”

Frank snorted. “Definitely not.”

“We’re friends of Katarina,” Karen said quickly, hoping to ease the woman’s mind.

“Katarina?” Dixie’s eyes widened. “Is she alright??”

“She’s fine, she’s working as housekeeping at the hotel down the street.”

Dixie whispered something in Russian, hand at her throat.

“We’re here to help you, and all the girls Boris brought in tonight.”

Frank moved to stand at the door. “Katarina told us that Boris and his boss are scamming women into sex work to pay off their debt for getting into the country.”

Dixie nodded. “And he uses us as drug mules, makes us carry it inside us…” She curled her lip, glaring at the ground. “Whatever money we make, he takes it from us. Always tells us we owe him more.”

“Which is why we’re here,” Karen said. “We’re going to get you and the others out, but we need your help. Where are those girls now?”

“Here, in dressing room,” Dixie said. “He always gives ‘pep talk’ on first night.”

Frank scowled. “Meaning he’s giving them coke to loosen them up.”

“And to get them hooked so they’ll owe him more money,” Karen added.

Dixie jerked her head ‘yes’. “They’re all so young… Some not even eighteen.”

Karen saw Frank’s eyes darken with rage, trigger finger twitching at his side.

“Better not waste any time then,” Karen said. “We need to get to that dressing room unseen. Is there a way to sneak in?”

“Da. There is loose panel in back of coat check,” Dixie said, pantomiming as she spoke. “We sometimes use it to sneak past pushy customers.”

“And a way out to the back alley?” Frank asked.

“Through dressing room. There is fire exit, no alarm though, it doesn’t work.”

“Perfect.”

“But wait, where do we go?” Dixie clutched Karen’s arm. “Once we leave…”

“A friend is getting you all tickets out of the city. Once we sneak you out, he’s—” Karen nodded to Frank, “—Going to… make sure none of Boris’ men follow. You’ll get only the things you need and then head to the bus station.”

“But the police—”

“We’ll take care of that. You and your friends just have to hurry once you’re out.”

Dixie nodded, fear mixing with hope in her eyes. “Okay.”

Sliding the .380 from the back waistband of his jeans, Frank glanced at the two women. “Ready?”

Karen gripped Dixie’s hand. “Wait, what’s your name—your real name?”

“Sara.” She smiled. “Sara Koslov.”

“Nice to meet you Sara.”

***

Getting the girls dressed and out of the club had been the easy part. Convincing them to take a bus to Ohio had been more difficult.

But after a few short conversations, with Sara translating the Russian, they were able to hurry the women out and around the corner where Katarina was waiting with one of the hotel shuttle vans.

Karen and Frank split up, with Karen leading the group of women out of the back of the club quickly and quietly. Frank had stayed behind, and Karen decidedly didn’t ask what he planned to do.

Moments felt like hours, but soon everyone was ushered to safety. Katarina had leapt from the van when she saw her sister, hauling her into a hug that made even Karen’s ribs ache. It was pure joy.

Karen had texted Micro, just as Frank told her to do, giving him the details he needed and then telling the women what to do next.

They all needed to pack, to take only essentials, and to make it to the bus station in an hour. Before driving off, Katarina gave Karen a hug too, thanking her in broken English for helping her and her sister.

Karen watched the van speed around the corner, and waited five minutes just like Frank told her before calling Brett and giving him the tip.

“That’s right. A huge heroin shipment is being distributed out of the Fox Den gentleman’s club in Brighton Beach. You’ll need Vice and probably immigration. And no, I won’t name my source, stop asking me, Brett.”

She hung up and hurried to where she told Frank she’d wait. He was just rounding the corner when she got there.

“Do I need to ask how empty my clip is?”

“Not as empty as you’d think,” Frank told her, handing her back her weapon.

Getting back to the hotel, Karen packed faster than she’d ever done in her life. Frank helped, tossing in whatever he knew belonged to her, as well as a few mini bottles he swiped from the bar.

“You deserve ‘em,” he said, when he caught her arching an eyebrow at him.

They were just getting into a cab when they heard the sirens and spotted flashing blue lights speeding down the street. Karen watched out the window as the cab pulled away from the curb, Frank’s warm hand on her knee, giving it a squeeze.

“Did good tonight,” he whispered.

Karen nodded, swallowing. “Yeah. We did.”

***

Dropping her suitcase by the door, Karen kicked off her heels while Frank helped her out of her coat.

“Y’know, I thought I’d be exhausted,” she said, striding into her kitchen and opening the fridge. “Instead I’m… hungry. And I want a drink. You?”

Frank grunted softly, unzipping his jacket and tossing it over one of her bar stools.

Grabbing him a beer from the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of wine from the cabinet and started pouring herself a glass.

“Smart move to record everything on your phone,” Frank said as she handed him his beer. “Now you’ve got your story.”

Karen smiled. “Probably have two stories—Russian mobsters trafficking women and smuggling drugs, and then their arrest and conviction. Well, for the ones still alive.”

“Like I said, it’s more than you think,” he told her, taking a swig from the bottle.

“You really tried to do this my way, huh?” She stepped closer, knee pressing between his.

Frank smirked down at her. “Told ya I would.”

Taking a large gulp of her wine, Karen held his gaze. “I know. And I appreciate it.”

“Hmm.”

She was fully in his space, chest barely brushing his as they breathed.

“Thought you were hungry,” Frank murmured, stare dropping to her lips.

“I think I’m in the mood for something else now,” she said, setting her wine on the counter.

A deep rumble of a laugh reverberated through him, sending shivers up Karen’s arms.

“Adrenaline spike got to ya, huh?”

Her fingers worked under his belt, tugging him closer. Her left hand skated up his chest until she was wrapping her arm around his neck.

“Maybe.”

Leaning up, Karen brushed her lips over his, teasing him with how much she held back.

“Maybe?” He asked against her, hands on her hips.

Scraping her nails over the nape of his neck, Karen ducked her head to drag her mouth over his pulse point. She felt him inhale and took her cue to press her teeth into the spot, making him groan.

“Shit, Karen,” he sighed as she did it again, leaving a reddening mark on his throat.

“Now we match,” she murmured, kissing it before guiding him towards the couch.

Frank sat back, hands never leaving her, as she leaned over him. She almost giggled when she thought about how similar she must look to Dixie in that position, but a wave of possessive heat washed away any giddiness.

She knew Frank. She knew what he saw at the club meant nothing to him, it was a job. But she couldn’t help the intense feeling she had to remind him of what he had right here, to claim what was hers.

Lips ghosting over his again, Karen planted her hands on his shoulders as she pushed between his knees.

Frank’s finger tips dug into the flesh of her hips. “C’mere,” he murmured, tilting his head for a kiss she never fully gave him.

Smirking, Karen shook her head. “Not yet,” she told him, dropping one hand to his belt and adeptly unhooking it. His zipper was next, and she felt Frank tense at the first brush of her fingers over his length.

“Karen…”

She didn’t say anything, just simply dropped to her knees between his legs. The look of utter shock on Frank’s face would have been endearingly funny if it didn’t send a jolt right to her ego.

Bracing herself on his right thigh, Karen worked him free from his briefs, fingers curling around the base of his cock.

She knew she couldn’t take him fully—deep throating was never her specialty and Frank wasn’t exactly lacking in measure—but she was confident in her skills nonetheless.

Frank was mumbling under his breath, a half formed thought about how she didn’t need to go down on him, when she cut him off by licking up the underside of his shaft. He inhaled sharply, and she did it again, this time swiping over the tip to make him groan.

“Now I’m really gonna drive you crazy,” she murmured, hand stroking him.

Before he could respond, she wrapped her lips around him and took him as far as she could, relishing the gruff curses tumbling out of his mouth as she bobbed her head. She continued to tease, to lick and suck, to drag her mouth over each side while her hand continued to work. Each time she swallowed around him, his breath caught and he whimpered as she sucked.

The Big Bad Punisher, completely falling apart under her touch.

Blinking up at him, she caught his gaze as she sank further down until he was nudging the back of her throat and she pulled back just a fraction.

“ _Fuck_ , Karen…” He groaned, hand scrubbing over his flushed face.

Humming, she swirled her tongue, and shivered when he moaned.

Her thighs pressed together, trying to relieve some of her intense arousal, but it didn’t work. Maybe just a light stroke or two…

Tugging her dress up with her free hand, Karen slid her panties to the side, fingers brushing over where she needed.

“Jesus, fuck,” Frank hissed, hips lifting involuntarily. “Y’that turned on by this?”

Lifting her gaze, Karen answered by sinking two of her fingers in deep and whimpering while she worked him with her mouth. In tandem, she fucked herself on her hand while sucking his cock, and she couldn’t tell who was closer to exploding, her or Frank.

Suddenly his hand was in her hair, gently tugging until she released him.

“Ride me,” he begged. “C’mon sweetheart, get up here.”

Smirking, Karen gave him another teasing swipe of her tongue before pushing up off the floor. But instead of moving into his lap, she tugged at his jeans until they were passed his thighs, and straddled his left leg.

“You liked my mouth on you, didn’t you?” She murmured in his ear, bracing herself on the back of the couch as she grinded against his thigh. “Nearly came down my throat, huh?”

Frank clutched the back of her neck, holding her close. The wrecked noise that escaped him sent heat coursing through her, and she sank down, pressing against firm muscle.

Kissing the shell of his ear, Karen whispered, “Now who likes being had?”

“Shit, Karen, I…”

Sliding up and down his thigh, she moaned softly. “Got interrupted from this before… Liked how you felt under me.”

Her new-found confidence pushed her higher, made her grin as Frank shuddered under her, shifting and twitching, struggling to keep it together. Reaching behind her, she unzipped her dress, letting it fall over her shoulders to pool at her waist, exposing her breasts to him.

Lunging forward, Frank wrapped his lips around her left nipple, sucking until she was gasping and clutching his head. He groaned against her as she swiveled her hips, continuing to grind her soaked core down his thigh.

“Mmm, Karen…” He murmured into her skin as he kissed her chest.

A little roughly, Karen shoved his shoulders until he was leaning all the way back against the cushions. Standing for a moment, she swung her leg over to straddle his hips, and Frank held her waist as she settled back down.

Lining him up, Karen took him all the way to the base in one motion, making them both gasp. She fisted his hair, yanking as she rode him just like she wanted. Fast, rough, with very little finesse, only one purpose in mind for both of them.

She would have felt a little guilty about fucking him this hard, if he wasn’t staring up at her like she was the most glorious thing he’d ever seen.

Cursing, Karen dug her nails into the meat of his shoulder, holding on as she sped up.

“Christ, Frank, fuck,” she cried, the first shock of her orgasm tearing through her. “Oh fuck, ohh fuckk.”

She hadn’t even caught her breath when Frank lifted her, turning them so she was on her back along the couch. Gripping her thigh, Frank hoisted her leg up until her calf was over his shoulder, snapping his hips against her.

Reaching over her head to brace herself on the arm of the couch, Karen gasped his name as he fucked harder.

“So beautiful, shit Karen, you’re perfect, just—” Frank grunted as he kissed her neck.

His calloused palm on her breast sent her reeling, hips lifting urgently to meet his. Snaking her arm between them, she circled her fingers over her clit while Frank watched in awe.

Moaning, she tossed her head back, hair wild around her shoulders.

“I’m gonna come, Frank,” she gasped, and he nipped the tendon in her neck. “Harder, bite… harder.”

He did as she told, and Karen’s back arched off the couch as she screamed. Seconds later Frank followed, bucking against her and cursing with what breath he had left in his lungs.

Dropping his forehead to her shoulder, he stayed there panting, while she wrapped her arms around him.

“Shit… that was…” Karen breathed, hip beginning to ache from where he still had her positioned. “That was so hot.”

He nodded against her and the sensation made her shiver. “Yeah, yeah it fucking was.” Lifting his head, he eyed her from under heavy lids. “Seeing me with that stripper really got to you, huh?”

Karen blushed. “I just… wanted to remind you not to go out for a burger when you have steak at home.”

Frank laughed and she felt it in her abdomen. “Were you ever concerned?”

“No,” she admitted. “Still had fun reminding you though.”

“Well shit, sweetheart, if you wanna remind me of that fact every day, you’re welcome to.”

Karen breathed out a laugh. “I don’t know if I’ve got the stamina. Or the flexibility,” she said, motioning to her leg still over his shoulder. “My leg’s going to sleep, babe.”

“Sorry,” he muttered, kissing her knee before helping her down. He trailed more kisses up her chest and collar bone before slanting his mouth over hers, tasting himself faintly on her. “’Sgood.”

Karen nodded, smiling as he kissed her again. “Who needs a fancy hotel, huh?”

Grinning, Frank nuzzled the hinge of her jaw. “Not us.”

“Hey Frank?”

“Hm?”

“Now I really am hungry.”

***

Two days later Frank read Karen’s article aloud while waiting for the bagels to finish toasting. He told Karen he was reading it ‘to Max, so he can hear why dad was gone’, but Karen knew he was bragging on her.

“…Authorities apprehended a total of twelve men suspected in human trafficking and drug smuggling, all with ties to the Russian mob. Officials say anonymous witness statements helped solidify their case, and charges will be filed later this week.” Frank picked up his coffee, sipping while he refolded the paper. “See Max? Dad was helping put bad guys in jail. First time for everything…”

The puppy simply continued chewing his bone at Karen’s feet.

“He doesn’t seem that impressed,” Karen said, running her toe over the puppy’s back.

“’Cause he’s more impressed with you and your journalistic integrity.”

Karen smiled, dipping her butter knife into the cream cheese. “It’s nice being a celebrity in my own apartment.”

“You’re a celebrity all over the city, Miss Page.”

Leaning over, Karen kissed Frank’s cheek. “Couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Sure ya could’ve.”

She tilted her head in thought. “Maybe. But it wouldn’t have been as fun.”

Frank winked at her. “Happy to be of service.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, comments are welcomed and appreciated! I also wrote this way before the rumors of TPS season 2 arc came out, so now I'm a little concerned the NSA agent assigned to watching me has connections at Marvel (I'm kidding! ....sorta)


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